The Final Deal
by FanofPnF
Summary: Bill's Death: This Time It's Really, Really Personal, or: What if it was Ford rather than Stan who got to destroy Bill in his mind in the finale? Involves Major Character Death.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls. If I did, and it would have been a show about my own childhood with a (hypothetical) twin sister, it would probably be really boring.**

 _Author's Note: I have seen the subject of Ford dealing with Bill's death rather than Stan before once or twice, even in actual written fanfic, but since by then this idea had already blossomed in my mind and some of my ideas were different anyway I decided to go ahead and write this story. The subject of Ford being in Stan's place is an interesting one because although Stan had been indirectly hurt by Bill through Ford and the younger twins, he hadn't got the long personal history with Bill that Ford had at that moment (Stan hardly knew the guy). I liked writing about Ford getting a chance to express the hurt and resentment and desire for vengeance that he felt - I hope the reader thinks that I did a good job. Please review!  
_

 **The Final Deal**

"EENY! MEENY! MINEY! YOU…"

"WAIT!"

The familiar sound of Sixer's voice makes Bill call off his decision to choke Shooting Star at the last moment. He looks up to see Stanford standing there, the broken look in his eyes oh so satisfying. "I surrender."

It just feels so _good_ to see him like that, the pathetic human who thought he could outlast Bill Cipher. Didn't he realize after all the years they'd known each other – which he knew had been a long time by human standards – that Bill always got his way in the end? He recalled the way Ford had looked at him just a few days ago – defiant and smug at his realization that he couldn't escape this stupid town, that even after he'd won something had still dared to constrain Bill Cipher which was _so_ unfair… but it was over now. Ford was beaten, and the way he was clinging to the bars of the pyramid he'd locked the twins in indicated that he was struggling just to remain upright.

"GOOD CHOICE" he said, letting go of the younger twins to shrink and focus on the older brothers. Sixer's twin was yelling at him even now, declaring that he shouldn't do it because it would ruin everything, while Sixer proclaimed that it was the only way. There was something odd about the way Stanley Pines was yelling, sounding somehow more sad than desperate, but Bill had never claimed he could understand human emotions. (Well, maybe he had once or twice when he'd been comforting an occasionally insecure Ford when they were building the portal. The sucker had eaten it all up because he was so desperately looking for someone who cared for him that he was willing to believe any of the lies that Bill fed to him. Ah, good times.)

He laughed, enjoying the sensation of being in full command once more. "EVEN WHEN YOU'RE ABOUT TO DIE, YOU PINES TWINS JUST CAN'T GET ALONG!" he exclaimed. He snapped the pyramid down and let tentacles come up and strangle Sixer's twin. Ford almost toppled over from losing the support around him. Sheesh, he'd thought human bodies were remarkably durable when possessing Pine Tree but Old Fordsy was just proving to be a disappointment here. He'd only electrocuted the guy a few times, he had no right to be this weak. Bill briefly considered healing him a little but then dismissed the thought. He could deal with Stanford being weakened for a few seconds. Soon, none of it would matter anymore.

"My only condition," Ford croaked, "is that you let my brother and the kids go."

Ordinarily he would have laughed at the idea of Ford being able to set conditions, but right now he had other things on his mind. "FINE" he said dismissively. Pine Tree, Shooting Star and Claw didn't mean that much to him anyway, and he could always have one of his Henchmaniacs hunt them down and kill them if he felt like it. Stanford wouldn't have liked that, but it was not like he was going to let the nerd live anyway. He was just too much of a nuisance, and there were other toys to play with out here. Not to mention he'd always have the precious memories of betraying him.

"No, Grunkle Ford, don't trust him!" Pine Tree yelled, but Ford wisely ignored him. He tried to regain his composure and uneasily walked forwards. Bill impatiently moved in and held out his hand. Ford took it. "IT'S A _**DEAL**_!"

Bill laughed with glee as he left his body and zoomed into Stanford's mind. He could see the brief terror in Ford's eyes as he got closer, undoubtedly due to remembering all the other times this had happened in the past. Thirty years of running, and in the end he was back in Bill Cipher's clutches despite everything he had tried. It was ironic, really.

And then everything around him vanished.

An endless expanse of white greeted him, a mindscape that was straining under the weight of having to accommodate Bill's intrusion. Just one door was visible in the distance – undoubtedly the door behind which the code rested. Stanford would know there was no use in delaying the inevitable now. Impatience mixed with joy in his own mind. "OH, I'M HERE, I'M FINALLY HERE!" he cheerfully exclaimed. "LOOK AT THIS PLACE, A CALM ORDERLY VOID. GOTTA HAND IT TO YOU FORD – YOU REALLY KNOW HOW TO CLEAR YOUR MIND!" He opened the door and –

This was off.

He'd looked for specific memories before, most recently in Ford's brother's mind, and every time the memory in question was of the place the owner had seen or used it. As such, he had expected to find a twenty-something version of Ford at work in his lab or his study. Instead, he was faced with a place that was instantly familiar – a black expanse filled with books and scrolls. It was the Dreamscape, more specifically the place where he had first met up with Ford and tricked him into believing he was his friend. He couldn't understand how he could be here – well, he guessed it could be Sixer's memory of their first encounter, but the memory of the equation wouldn't be here and he didn't understand what the point of all this would be. A delaying tactic? But why would he…

"Hello, Bill."

…he had to admit Stanford had managed to catch him off-guard there. Bill turned around to see his old pawn rise up out of the darkness, his arms folded and his eyes firmly staring at him behind his glasses. Whatever this was supposed to mean, Bill could not appreciate it. "WHAT ARE YOU UP TO, SIXER?" he snapped. His body flashed red. " **WHERE IS THE EQUATION?** "

Rather than look intimidated, Ford grinned wryly. "You haven't figured it out yet? So much for near-omniscience. Then let me enlighten you." He pulled his six fingers into a fist and tapped his forehead. Bill felt only annoyed at first. All he heard was the hollow insides of his stupid flesh sack's mind and…

…and then he realized it.

His one eye looked up at Stanford, stupefied. Ford nodded grimly. "You should have searched me more thoroughly before you threw me into that pyramid. All it took was a scalpel and Stanley's surprisingly impressive medical knowledge, and my metal plate was out within minutes."

For a moment, Bill didn't know what to say. Then, he laughed. "REALLY, STANFORD? THAT WAS THE BEST IDEA YOU COULD COME UP WITH? YOU IDIOT! ALL YOU DID WAS ENSURE THAT YOU WERE GOING TO BLEED TO DEATH WITHIN MINUTES! YOUR MEATSACK'S PROBABLY ALREADY COLLAPSED RIGHT NOW!"

Ford shrugged. "One way or another, I wasn't going to make it alive anyway. I didn't need to survive this – all I needed was to live long enough for you not to notice anything was up."

Huh. Well, he'd had him there, Bill had to admit – but he was still confused. "YOU THINK COMMITTING SUICIDE WILL TAKE ME ALONG WITH YOU? THINK AGAIN, IQ! WHEN A HOST BODY LOSES CONSCIENCE OR DIES, I JUST GET THROWN OUT AGAIN!" He laughed. "I'VE GOT TO APPLAUD YOUR CREATIVITY – BUT IN THE END, ALL YOU DID WAS HELP ME ALONG!"

Stanford didn't look shocked, though. Instead, he smiled. "I knew me dying wouldn't be enough to get rid of you, Bill" he said softly. "But something else _will_."

And then the door slammed shut.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Stanford mused. "Fiddleford invented his memory gun because of what _you_ had shown him. He thought it would help him, but it ended up destroying his mind." He smiled, but it was a smile bereft of any positive emotion. "And now it's going to destroy yours."

A moment of confusion was soon replaced by a sensation which Bill Cipher was unfamiliar with and which it actually took him a few seconds to recognize – _panic_. "NO" he mumbled, straining his powers to try to exit the mind which was being destroyed around him. "NO, NO, NO!" This… this couldn't be happening! There had to be a way out! He could not be _trapped_ here, trapped in a mind which was getting erased and where everything around it was going up in flames – there had to be an exit, somewhere, _any_ where, it couldn't all have been destroyed yet by the flaming inferno around him, it couldn't… he used all the mental powers he had to bend the mindscape to his will, but the mindscape was burning and not listening. It was like banging on a brick wall and hoping for it to cave – with the exception that brick walls had never posed an obstruction to Bill Cipher.

They sure did now, though.

"WHY ISN'T THIS WORKING?"

He knelt down on his knees and banged on the walls of the mindscape, trying to do anything, whatever it took, anything… until he was roughly grabbed and turned around. Stanford's face was close to his eye, and Bill struggled to get loose of his grasp until he realized one simple thing.

Although he had recently acquired power in the physical world, his essence had always been in the Nightmare Realm and the Mindscape. He was the master of the mind, enabling him to manipulate human brains even when they should nominally be the ones in control. But there was another side to the coin, which meant that since he was strong in the mind, now that the mind was dying, he was losing his powers faster than ever before. Which meant that right now Ford, despite the fact that he was dying, was stronger than he was. And Bill could not escape his grasp.

And that meant he also couldn't escape that _look_.

He'd seen Ford angry at him before, and it was always hilarious and satisfying, like emotional hurt was supposed to be. When threatening to dismantle the portal, when declaring he'd stop Bill from breaking the rift, Ford's anger had always been at worst slightly annoying and at best the highlight of his year. Now, however, everything was different. Being seconds away from losing his life was the most terrifying thing the eon-old demon had ever experienced – but he had to admit that the quiet fury in Stanford Pines' eyes came an awfully close second.

"You _lied_ to me" Stanford hissed. "You _manipulated_ me. You _used_ me. You _toyed with_ me. You made me think that finally I'd found someone I could trust when in reality nothing could be further from the truth. Thanks to you I alienated all my friends and my family. Thanks to you my life was _hell_. You meant _everything_ to me, and I was nothing but a _toy_ to you. You _haunted_ me and _pursued_ me. You drove me to _insanity_ and to the point where I wanted nothing more than to _die_ , except you weren't ready to let my suffering stop. You _tortured_ me. You _destroyed_ me. Everything about you was a _lie_ , all the care and praise you gave me an illusion. All for the sake of causing the Apocalypse. For the sake of your _party_." He spat out the word as if it were a curse.

Ford briefly glanced around at the flames honing in on them before turning back to facing Bill. "You _broke_ me, Bill Cipher. But for all the manipulations and the pain you inflicted on me, I should have known not to trust you from the start and I cannot evade my responsibility for building the portal and thus starting the chain reaction that lead to Weirdmageddon. I devoted all my life to stopping you, but just for what you did to me, I would have gladly imprisoned you for as long as I could. But you went further than that. You haunted my brother's mind as well, and you hurt and traumatized my _twelve-year-old_ great-nephew and –niece beyond belief. And _that_ , Cipher, is unacceptable. For that, _you_ _**will**_ _**DIE**_."

Bill Cipher responded to that in a way he'd never done to anyone before, least of all Ford Pines – he begged. "STANFORD, PLEASE!" he stammered. "LET ME OUT! I'LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING! KNOWLEDGE, POWER, RECOGNITION, VALIDATION, IT'LL BE EVERYTHING YOU'VE EVER WANTED, JUST LET ME OUT OF HERE, SIXER, BUDDY, PAL… _PLEASE_!"

Ford's expression remained unchanged. Bill pulled as hard as he could and to his own surprise actually managed to free himself from Stanford's grasp – although it could be that Ford had simply let go. The triangle struggled to regain solid shape, as _anything_ really, struggled to reach out to his former pawn and deal one more blow to him, one final moment of pain before the human he'd thought he could manipulate forever would succeed in killing him, he tried to preserve his form, but he couldn't, he couldn't, and then finally for one moment he could, and despite the grim expression on Ford's face and the fist his hand was clenched into Bill moved forwards and charged…

"SSSSTTTTAAAA _AANNNNNNFFFFFOOO_ _ **OOOOORRRRRRRDDDDD!"**_

And then it was all over.

* * *

He'd done it.

Bill was gone.

Over the course of his travels, Stanford Pines hadn't had much time to imagine what Bill's defeat would look like, but one thing that was for sure was that it wouldn't be like this. Perhaps arrogantly, he had always imagined it to be a moment of triumph, and of course this was that to a certain extent, but he felt no elation, just satisfaction. And naturally, he had never imagined that he would end up dying along with Bill.

The flames were closing in now. Ford looked around the remaining scrolls and books that still cluttered his mindscape even now that both his mind and soul were getting destroyed. This was what his life had been about. Science. Research. Exploration. And all the positive _and_ negative things that came with them. Had it all been worth it, or had he just wasted his time?

One object in particular caught his sight, and he pulled it closer to him. It was an old, faded picture, like so many existed around the world, depicting two boys standing triumphantly on the ship they had retrieved from an old cave and made seaworthy again. But this wasn't just any old picture to Stanford Pines. It was a picture of him and his brother, and what it symbolized was much stronger than words could express.

To Ford, the picture was the one proof he had for something which he had at times no longer dared to believe – that there was someone out there who cared for him. The two boys in the picture had been torn apart when they'd grown older, when Stan had destroyed his one dream to finally get recognition for himself from someone other than his brother, to finally prove that he wasn't a worthless freak… and it had hurt, it had hurt so much, and it had left him more secure than ever in the thought that no one would ever value him for anything other than his intelligence. And when Bill had showed up and played on those insecurities, he had loved every second of it, but his fall had been so much greater afterwards. Fiddleford had left him, Bill had betrayed him, and Stan had put their sibling rivalry over helping him save the world. In his mind at the time, he really had no one left.

There really was no one in his life he could trust.

And yet one stubborn part of him refused to believe that. One part of him was ready to be disappointed time and time again, because he simply could not believe that Stanley had never truly cared for him. That there was nothing to him but his mind. And that part of him had held onto the picture even in those direst of times, had taken comfort from it in the darkest days in the other dimension, and finally in the few weeks he had back in his home world, weeks which had seen his and Stan's fight set aflame once more.

And that part of him had been vindicated. Because in those weeks he had learned something more powerful than what he had written in any of his journals – that someone did care for him, and he for them. First, it had been Dipper, excited, ambitious and caring Dipper. Then, it had been Mabel. And finally, but oh so importantly, in the final minutes before his sacrifice, it had been Stanley again.

Just like old times.

"Once," he mused aloud, "I was sure that I would end up dying alone, secure only in the knowledge that I enclosed in my journals – that there was no one you could trust."

As he witnessed the final parts of his mind disappear, he closed his eyes and a thought came to mind from what he had read of Dipper's additions to his journal during those few precious weeks he had had with his relatives, words which had changed the tone of Journal 3 entirely and which finally made sense to him now.

"But if you fight an interdimensional dream demon side by side with someone, you'll realize they'll probably always have your back."

And if that was the sole message he took from this long and bitter life, then…

…then that definitely was enough.


End file.
